


du har meg (you have me)

by kitsunechikyu



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Isak is there for Sana, Light Angst, Other, Sana needs a friend, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 19:30:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11042811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitsunechikyu/pseuds/kitsunechikyu
Summary: “Sara was going to kick me out of the Russebus,” she blurts out.She cringes at how broken the words sound, her voice strained and cracked with panic. Isak blinks at her, confused.“Hva faen? Why the hell would she do that?” he asks.Sana wants to laugh. It’s obvious to her, having dealt with girls like Sara her entire life. People fear what they don’t understand, and for some reason they never seem to understand her.“Because I’m different,” Sana says.(or; Sana is about to send the messages from Sara, but Isak catches her before hand and gets her to open up).





	du har meg (you have me)

**Author's Note:**

> Heya everyone! I'm worried about what is gonna go down with these text messages, and I desperately want Sana to feel like she has a friend, so I wrote a lil fic about one possible outcome. Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Translations:
> 
> 1\. Ingenting = Nothing
> 
> 2\. Hva faen? = What the fuck

It’s Wednesday when he catches her, plopped down at their biology table. Sana doesn’t hear him come in and is so startled by his sudden appearance that she nearly falls off her chair.

 

“What are you doing?” Isak asks.

 

His voice is curious, but there is a slight accusatory lilt to it. Sara’s messages are displayed across her computer screen --- she’d transferred them to make it easier to send on mass --- and it’s pretty obvious from the name on the sidebar that it is _not_ her email she’s looking at. Sana slams her laptop shut and glances up at her friend guiltily.

 

“Ingenting,” she says quickly.

 

She shifts in discomfort, heat rising to her cheeks. She had only been seconds from clicking send and being found out makes hot shame burn in her stomach. Isak narrows his eyes at her and sits down in his seat. There’s no one else in the classroom, and it leaves the two of them shrouded in an uncomfortable silence.

 

“How’d you get those,” Isak finally asks.

 

Sana closes her eyes. She doesn’t want to have this conversation.

 

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” she deflects.

 

Isak sighs next to her and pulls his textbook out of his bag in her peripheral vision. He places his hands flat on the desk and fixes her with an unimpressed stare.

 

“Sana, those were my messages. I recognize the conversation. Where did you get them?”

 

He sounds hurt. Sana’s chest constricts painfully. Part of her wants to lie to him, tell him that she got them from somewhere other than his Facebook, but she’s been keeping things in for weeks now and she isn’t sure she has the energy anymore.

 

“From your laptop,” she mumbles.

 

Sana can’t meet Isak’s eyes, even though she can feel them boring into the side of her skull. A couple minutes ago she hadn’t wanted anybody to be in the room, but now she is desperate for someone to walk in and interrupt what is about to be a very awkward altercation.

 

“So that’s…” Isak shakes his head. “The other day at my house, when I saw you with my laptop, this is what you were doing?”

 

Sana nods, clenching her hands into fists.

 

“Why?” he asks, incredulous.

 

She has no idea how to talk herself out of this situation. What is she supposed to say? That Sara is a bitch that wanted to kick her out of her own bus? That the boy she likes is fooling around with one of her best friends and she can’t stand it? Anything she tells him is going to sound beyond petty, and Sana is starting to realise this with terrible clarity as she wracks her brain for an answer.

 

 “It’s complicated,” she settles for.

 

Isak throws his head back in exasperation.

 

“Well, explain it to me then, Sana. Considering you literally snuck into my personal messages and took pictures of them, I think I deserve some kind of explanation.”

 

He shakes his head again and scoots closer to her, his face softening.

 

“Sana, this isn’t like you. What’s going on?”

 

Sana finally looks at him and the concern on his face takes her aback. Why isn’t he yelling at her? He should be furious. Instead he just seems worried.

 

“Sara was going to kick me out of the Russebus,” she blurts out.

 

She cringes at how broken the words sound, her voice strained and cracked with panic. Isak blinks at her, confused.

 

“Hva faen? Why the hell would she do that?” he asks.

 

Sana wants to laugh. It’s obvious to her, having dealt with girls like Sara her entire life. People fear what they don’t understand, and for some reason they never seem to understand her.

 

“Because I’m different,” Sana says.

 

Isak’s face lights up with recognition and he curses.

 

“I’m sorry, Sana. That’s awful and totally unfair.”

 

He puts his hand on her shoulder.

 

“So, you were trying to get back at her?” he asks.

 

Sana shrugs in response. There is more to it, but that is the basic idea she supposes. Isak’s nose scrunches up in thought.

 

“But wait,” he starts. “Why were you sending it from Noora’s email?”

 

The shame from earlier flames up in Sana’s abdomen again. That was more convoluted. Logically, she knows she doesn’t really have a reason to be as angry at Noora as she is. Of course, there are a few things that she’s said that made her feel bad, but overall Noora hasn’t been malicious. So why does Sana feel like punching a wall every time she speaks?

 

“There’s- I like this boy,” she tries.

 

Isak raises his eyebrows in surprise, but motions for her to continue.

 

“I thought that he liked me too. But then he kissed Noora at the karaoke. He keeps flirting with me, or at least I thought he was, but he went to see her again the other day. I know that she’s pretty and smart and everything, I just thought that I had a chance. I guess not, since she’s just so- so-”

 

“Perfect?” Isak says.

 

Sana nods. She fixes her gaze on her lap, trying to ignore the tears that are stubbornly pricking the back of her eyelids. Isak is quiet for a moment, and Sana thinks that this is it. This is where he walks away from their friendship. This is where he tells her she’s a terrible person. _This is where he leaves her alone._

 

“Did anyone ever tell you about what happened between Eva and I in first year?” he says instead.

 

It comes out quietly, like he isn’t sure how to go about breaching the subject.

 

Sana is a little bewildered by the sudden change in topic.

 

“No?” she says.

 

“When we were fifteen she cheated on Jonas with Penetrator Chris, because she thought he was doing the same with Ingrid.”

 

Sana hums. She did know that part. She remembers very clearly the conflict that followed. It had been messy. She wasn’t sure what that had to do with anything though.

 

“She told me about it first, in confidence. I promised not to say anything, comforted her about it.”

 

Isak bites his lip, hard enough that it looks like it hurts.

 

“And then I turned around and told Iben, Chris’ girlfriend.”

 

Sana gapes at her friend, unable to completely comprehend what he is saying.

 

“Why?” Sana asks, shell shocked.

 

Isak lets out a bitter laugh and rubs a hand over his face.

 

“Because I was jealous.”

 

He stares up at the ceiling, green eyes cloudy and distant.

 

“I was in love with Jonas,” he says, gently. “I was in love with him and it felt like I was drowning, because he couldn’t see it.”

 

Isak shifts to glance at Sana.

 

“I was in the closet already at that point, but it was around the time when things started to get worse. I was spending all my time at Jonas’ house because my parents were fighting almost constantly and my Mamma’s break downs were escalating. Jonas had this friend, Elias --- not your brother, another kid--- who just wouldn’t let me alone. He kept throwing around passive aggressive homophobic comments and was generally just a douchebag.”

 

Isak takes a breath and shakes his head.

 

“Jonas never did anything to stop him, actually joined in a couple times and he was always either with Elias or with Eva. It stung because I had feelings for him, feelings I wasn’t allowed to have, and I had to watch him constantly choose those two over me. I had to watch him be sappy and romantic with Eva, like I wished I could be with him, and hang out with Elias like he was his best bud. I just felt empty. So, when Eva got all paranoid and hooked up with Chris…”

 

Sana stares at his profile, watches his expression pinch.

 

“I saw it as a chance to have Jonas to myself again. The thing is, I actually _liked_ Eva. I thought she was a decent person --- pretty, funny, nice --- but I was also bitter. It was stupid, and petty, and I regret it like crazy now, but I still did it.”

 

Sana looks at her friend, unsure of what to say. He smiles back at her, exhaustion pulling at his delicate features.

 

“I don’t really know what you’re getting at,” Sana admits.

 

“My point is Sanasol,” Isak starts. “I get it. Maybe not your struggle personally, I won’t ever understand that. But I do know what it is like to feel like the whole world is against you and to feel like you need to stoop to lower levels to get back at it.”

 

He gives Sana a pointed look. She feels herself flush at the implication and fiddles with the hem of her black shirt.

 

“Look, Sana. Sara is awful. She really is. And if you want to expose her, you can, but don’t do it without thinking it through first. I know you are pissed at Noora for being with Yousef, but I don’t think she actually knows she’s hurting you. Just like Jonas and Eva didn’t know they were hurting me. And if you spread this, not only will she get dragged into it, but so will Eva and some others.”

 

Sana refuses to lift her gaze, but she hears Isak’s chair squeak as he tilts his lanky frame completely towards her.

 

“Look, I’m not trying to guilt trip you, I just- don’t want you to be me, okay? I hurt people. People I _care_ about and it made me dislike myself even more than I already did. I meant what I said on Friday, Sana. You are a good person, one of the best I know. I don’t want this to be something you end up beating yourself up over.”

 

Sana finally looks up at Isak. She searches his face for insincerity, for anger, but all she finds is that strange tenderness that he saves for people like Even. She still feels heavy with grief and frustration, but it’s dimmer now, more of an ache than a full blown tear. Sana brings a hand to her eyes, dabbing at the mascara that has begun to run due to tears in her waterline.

 

“I don’t know what to do,” she admits.

 

Isak shoots her a soft smile.

 

“Yeah, I know. That’s alright, though. You don’t always have to have all the answers,” he teases.

 

Sana can’t help the little laugh that escapes her lips. She knows he’s referencing their many arguments over biology.  

 

“But maybe for now you can try just talking to someone? A wise, if not slightly weird, person once told me that everything is harder to deal with when you are alone. And you aren’t, you know? You _aren’t_ alone, Sana. You have me. You have Even too, if you want him. He may have a stilted relationship with your brother, but he cares about you a lot.”

 

Sana returns his smile, and if it’s a bit watery, Isak is decent enough not to comment on it. He bumps their arms together as students start to file into the class and opens his text book. Sana spares another quick glance at her friend, fondness rushing through her chest. She turns his words over in her head again.

 

_You aren’t alone._

 

She is starting to believe it that it could be true.  


End file.
